The Bodyguard (Norcross #4) - Anna Hackett Page 0,28
jungle, being chased by black-market antiquities thieves.”
Now Rome looked at the man. Cal was watching his wife with a warm expression.
“Couldn’t have stopped falling for her if I tried. Hell, I didn’t want to try by the end. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” Cal’s gaze met Rome’s. “Protect your princess, Nash, and don’t be an idiot.”
Cal moved to help Dani with some equipment.
There was a boom of thunder from outside.
“That’s a wrap,” Dani called.
Applause broke out.
“Well done, Your Highness.” Dani helped Sofie up.
Sofie pulled the coat around her and smiled. “You make it easy.” She glanced at Rome, then disappeared behind the screen.
Helpless to stop the urge, Rome followed. He scanned the space, ensuring the guards were all in place and everything was in order.
When he paused at the screen, Sofie turned.
She was still clad in the fur coat.
He just stared at her.
“Rome.”
“What’s under that?” he said between gritted teeth.
She gave him a faint smile. “Not much.”
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Did you like the jewelry?”
“Barely saw it. Your skin is prettier.”
She flushed. “I like your skin better.”
“Sofie—” Need pounded through his bloodstream. He was conscious of the people moving around on the other side of the screen.
She parted the coat a little and his gut tightened. His cock was as hard as a rock.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he saw the inner curves of her breasts, her flat belly, the twinkle of her piercing, and tiny, gossamer panties in pale pink.
“Sofie,” he breathed.
“I ache for you, Rome. So much.”
With a growl, he stepped forward. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her close.
The coat opened more, those pretty breasts topped with pink nipples displayed to him.
The last of his restraint evaporated.
He cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple. It hardened for him. His hands were large, but her breast filled his palm just fine.
Sofie bit her lip and moaned softly.
“Damn you for being so beautiful,” he growled.
“Please.” She arched her back.
He kissed her, feeling a deep, primitive need to stamp his ownership on her. He opened his mouth on hers, tongue thrusting deep. He was lost, and fuck, he didn’t want to be found. He used his tongue to tease, taste, and stroke every part of her delectable mouth.
He dragged his lips down her neck, peppering her skin with kisses.
She shivered.
“I love when you do that,” he said. “When your body shows me how much you want me.”
She moaned, her nails biting into his shoulders.
Finally, he closed his mouth over one nipple.
“Rome,” she panted.
Someone dropped something on the other side of the screen with a clatter.
“Crap, sorry,” someone yelled out. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
Rome lifted his head. Sofie blinked, eyes dazed.
Hell. He had his mouth on a naked princess in the middle of a photo shoot.
“Get dressed.” He set her down.
She blew out a breath. “Dressed?”
His lips twitched. “In clothes.”
She grabbed the lapels of the fur coat. “I know what it means, Rome Nash. Your kisses aren’t that brain scrambling.”
“Really? Do I need to kiss you again?”
Her brown gaze dropped to his lips. “Maybe?”
He rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “Later.”
“You promise?”
His gut throbbed at the need in her voice. “Yes. Now get dressed, beautiful.”
She nodded.
As he left her to change, more thunder sounded outside. Rain spattered against the windows.
Rome shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.
It was time to admit that, right or wrong, he wanted Princess Sofia of Caldova.
And he wasn’t going to let anything—not their roles, her stalker, or crazed fans—stop him from claiming her.
Chapter Eight
Rome kept his hands clamped on the wheel as he drove through the city, heading back to the Marina District.
Rain poured down, the sky a heavy gray, with clouds the color of bruises. The bad weather had cleared the streets, people taking cover.
“The photos from the shoot should turn out well,” he said.
In the passenger seat, Sofie bounced a little and smiled. “They’ll really help us raise awareness of the exhibition. The more people who buy tickets, the better.”
He grunted. He hated the idea of anyone seeing the beautiful, sexy shots of her.
The song on the radio ended, and a news report started.
“Another jewelry robbery took place in San Francisco today,” the announcer said.
“Oh, no.” Sofie turned the volume up.
“A house in Nob Hill was firebombed, as thieves targeted jewels that were scheduled for the Glittering Court exhibition,” the newsreader said. “The jewelry exhibition is being spearheaded by Princess Sofia of Caldova. The thieves made off with a tiara, worth millions of dollars.”
“Bastards,”